


Never the Same Twice

by ValleyNerd



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Drabble Collection, F/M, Smuppet vs Scalemates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-29
Updated: 2013-01-01
Packaged: 2017-11-22 20:43:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/614143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ValleyNerd/pseuds/ValleyNerd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AKA the Flustercuck. Fusterclick? Fristerfrack? Fustercluck. Ratings, tags, and etcetera to be amended as needed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

You don’t think this could have gone any worse. Three human years on that hurtling space rock with corpses and your few remaining friends, two humans, a psychopath moirail,, and first thing to happen when you land in the void SBURB session? Dave touches his fist to another human male’s fist, another human that happens to also wear dumb sunglasses except in a much sharper, as in angle and not style, variety. Then Terezi stares at pointy-shades, pointy-shades stares back. The joke is on him though and any second Terezi is going to laugh at him for getting into a staring contest with a blind girl right? Right? This is seriously getting too uncomfortable. The others have noticed the showdown. Kanaya actually fidgets in discomfort. Dave tries make his “bro” blink first. You’re clenching and unclenching your fists trying to keep calm but your blood pusher’s pushing too hard, too fast, this isn’t going to be pretty.

“Oh my dear sweet fuck!” Dave hollars. Kanaya is covering her head and walking quickly away. Rose rolls her eyes and you

Narrowly dodge a scalemate to the horns. Plushies are flying in a flurry of tail and nose and rumps and bright colors. You abscond, swearing a black streak across the open field with Dave echoing your obscenities close behind you.

“WELL MISTER LEADER,” you screech at the red-clad human. “CONTROL YOUR HORDE.”

“No fuck you,” Dave snarls back. “You can be the leader, I’m fucking DONE with smuppets!”


	2. Meenah<3Karkat: Silencing Shouty

She first came into your dream-hive all “Hey Shouty” and really you need to figure out a better locking mechanism if she’s able to get through it so quickly each time. You’re hurriedly scrubbing your sleeves over your face so hopefully she doesn’t see your blood color by the time she leans over your shoulder. It doesn't matter if she knows already. Old habits are hard to break. What she does see are the trollian logs between you and Terezi, at a time when you were both amiable and flirty and she’d called you a little bit handsome. (Called handsome by a blind girl and flattered by it. Ugh your life.) Meenah is nosy and insistent and near as loud as you can be, and somehow she pries you open like a clam and thoroughly examines your feelings and you miss Gamzee and _motherfucker_ you’re crying again. You could just die. You want to be done. You wonder if you’d die if you drowned your dream-bubble self and ask Meenah if she’d cull you.

Her response is “Oh naw, Shoutkat, naw,” and she tells you there’s plenty to be living for, even if it’s dream-living or ghost-living or whatever. She picks you up and sits in the computer chair, putting you into your lap, sort of rocking you and you try to make yourself as small as possible. She kisses your head and your horns, and coaxes your hands off your face. Then she’s silencing you with kisses on your lips and you can’t help but sort of melt against her, shivering. No one has kissed you before.

“No, wait,” you say. “I can’t-- Gamzee--”

“I ain’t pale for you,” Meenah says, kissing your jaw and then your neck. “And your flushed quadrant’s empty. No one’s cheatin’ on no one.” The thought almost goes to your head. The Condesce, red for you? You have to double-check yourself because Meenah is not the Condesce, even if an alternate her grew up to be.

You hesitate to kiss her back, still, but it turns out she doesn’t need too much feedback. She makes you straddle her in the chair and her touch is firm but considerate. It’s not what you were expecting. None of it was what you were expecting, from kissing to groping to -- how the hell did she get you naked already? All she’s done is slide her own pants down to her knees, then her attention is all on you again. She’s dead set on spoiling you, because when you try to touch her back she reassigns your hands to her shoulders, where you are supposed to hold on.

The entire experience is a whirl of heat and wet and you’re glad she wanted to be in control. You shook the entire time, lost in the cacophony of signals on and around and in your body. As you come down she holds you on her lap, arms locked firmly around you. Good thing too, because you are completely boneless and melted against her. You struggle to relearn how to breathe. You can hear your own pulse in your aural canals, frantic but slowing.

“I told you, Shouty,” Meenah says after several long minutes. “Plenty to live for.”

You want to call her out on how ridiculous that statement is because _she_ is _dead_ and _you_ are _dreaming_ and the line between life and death and dream is so blurred it’s basically a giant smeared stain across the spectrum. For once, though, you decline to comment. You listen to your pulse, your vascular sponge pumping your mutant blood throughout your body, fast and loud. You are sitting in a girl’s lap who in another world became the empress of your entire galactic civilization, and she doesn’t care about your freak color mingling with her own regal fuschia. She knew your blood before she knew you, and she doesn’t comment.

The silence is powerful. You feel accepted and wanted and not exactly happy, but content with the moment. You feel like you should start bawling all over again, but with Meenah’s hands on your back, her lips brushing gently over your stubby horns, you don’t. You actually feel okay.


End file.
